


After Dinner... Truffles?

by sunbug1138



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hangry Rey, Post-Canon, Redeemed Ben Solo, Young Ben Solo, Young Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-12 16:56:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13551648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbug1138/pseuds/sunbug1138
Summary: A bit of a chocolate box of vignettes set in  sakurazawa and Sathya's BrokenPieces-verse.Updates may be sporadic while I work on the longer Postcards from the Galactic Edge. But expect some scenes that don't quite fit in that piece to end up here ;-)





	1. After Dinner... Truffles?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sakurazawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurazawa/gifts), [Sathya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sathya/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Art of Broken Pieces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060209) by [sakurazawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurazawa/pseuds/sakurazawa), [Sathya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sathya/pseuds/Sathya). 
  * Inspired by [Postcards from the Galactic Edge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706421) by [sunbug1138](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbug1138/pseuds/sunbug1138). 



****It was a now a good few hours after sunset, and Ben and Rey had spent much of the day in meetings with Poe, Finn and a few of the Alliance’s intelligence officers, thrashing out ideas for locating and apprehending Hux. Ben had suggested embedding some operatives on Aurelia to monitor activities there, while Rey mentioned the possibility of making contact with Invigio, and determining his receptiveness to helping them.

After sitting in a stuffy room for close on six hours Poe stood up and rolled his neck, “Right I think that will do for today.” The Alliance officers collected up various data pads and took their leave. “Luckily for you two, and me, they are _very_ good at putting together reports.” Poe said, shooting a grin towards Rey and Ben. Rey resisted the urge to throw something at him. Poe clapped his hands together with finality, “Right then. Let’s get some dinner, I’m starving!” “No complaints from me,” said Ben, standing and stretching.

 

Leaving the others to make their way to Poe’s part of the estate, Finn ducked into his apartment to see if Rose had eaten yet. 

“I had been waiting to hear from you” she said with a slight note of irritation. “But you forgot to ping me on the comm to say you’d be late and tell me to go ahead and eat. Paige is all fed and down… for now.”

Finn looked sheepish, “Sorry, things got away from us a bit. We’re just on our way down to Poe’s dining room; he’s gone to see if Chef will rustle up something for us.” 

“Good luck to him”, laughed Rose. The head chef was notorious for being a stickler about meal times. Often they’d had to resort to taking things into their own hands and fend for themselves. Unfortunately the only thing the chef hated more than non adherence to his designated mealtimes, was interlopers in his kitchen. Not a day went by when a passive aggressive message was relayed  to them regarding the sanctity of his pantry and ingredients. Rose suspected that more than half the time little tidbits went missing it was Poe, the rest of the time, it was unquestionably the children.

“He’s taken Ben with him, I think Poe’s hoping his imposing presence will be enough to weaken Chef’s resolve.” Rose stood up laughing, “You know, I’m not sure that even an envoy consisting of Kylo Ren, Lord Snoke, and  Darth Vader himself would make Chef waver.”

“You may be right, but Poe will have to make do with Ben and his best glower.” replied Finn with a chuckle as he checked on Paige’s room monitor; tying it into his comm. He offered Rose his arm, “Shall we?”

 

Dinner was a small informal affair. Chef had relented. But refused to prepare any more than two courses, which more than suited the diners; and was in fact somewhat of a relief. The spreads the chef usually insisted on laying out were often more than they could handle, especially given their previous culinary experiences; consisting as they did of Stormtrooper rations, Resistance MREs and veg-meat and starch-carb ration portions. In the end he threw together a rice and pulse dish with various peppers and chopped gourd flesh; someone had eaten all the cold meats, he had grumbled darkly and somewhat pointedly. As they ate, they wondered aloud as to what the Chef would do if ever confronted with the meals they'd endured in what, now, seemed like another life. 

“What about higher up the chain, Ben. What were _your_  meals like?” Rose asked.

Ben, who had kept silent for most of the meal, nudged a particularly spicy pepper around his dish, and looked up at being addressed directly for the first time. 

 _Sweet Rose_ , thought Rey to herself, glad that her friend was making an effort to engage Ben and try draw him into the easy camaraderie that they enjoyed. She leaned over and snagged the pepper from Ben’s plate, popping it in her month while giving him a wicked grin. 

He took a deep breath and looked directly at Rose, “To be honest, it wasn’t really much better than what the troops had.”

“Oh really?” Said Poe, incredulously. “I don’t see Hux as a plain meat and stew kind of guy.”

“He probably isn’t,” conceded Ben, "but I never ate with him. I never spent any time with him if I could help it. It’s more than possible that he was enjoying quite lavish spreads. I was content with simple, nutritious meals.”

“Bland,” interjected Rey, her mouth full of hot pepper.

“Exactly,” agreed Ben with a small smile.

“So then, Aurelia, what did you think of the place? ” asked Poe, leaning back in his chair, a glass of the local vintage in his hand.

Rey looked at Ben and puffed out her cheeks, “Overblown and decadent. You’d love it there.”

Poe laughed, “Well I’ll probably be due a vacation at some point. Might be worth showing up, throwing my weight around, shmoozing, sampling the delights…”

Poe waved his glass towards Ben, “I seem to remember your parents' friend, Lando, getting into some serious trouble for dealing in Aurelian Truffles.” At the mention of his parents, Ben tensed momentarily but it quickly passed.

Ben leaned forward “You remember that?” 

Poe grinned, “How could I forget, we, I mean, kids were palling together to buy one between themselves and well…” He grinned.

“What are Aurelian Truffles? What’s the  big deal with them?” asked Finn, confusion on his face.

Poe leaned back in his chair again, “They are quite ordinary truffles made with Aurelian liquor which just happens to be a _ridiculously, insanely,_ potent aphrodisiac. Needless to say It’s illegal for them to be exported. Well it was back then.” He suddenly sat forward. “I’m not sure what the situation is now. I may need to check on that.” 

Rose let out a shriek “Oh my gods! You had some as a kid, that explains so much!”

“No, that’s just me” returned Poe with a smirk. Finn and Rose crumpled up with laughter and Ben just shook his head, a grin stealing across his face. _This is nice_ , he though to Rey. She squeezed his hand. His revelation that he had spent most of his free time, if any, while in the First Order, alone had made her heart ache for him. Their experiences, while so different, were so similar.

 

The laughter eventually subsided somewhat, and with a wicked grin, Poe turned towards Ben and Rey, “Well? By all accounts you two attended some pretty fancy shindigs while you were out there; did you try them?”

“Not by choice” said Rey. Poe raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m a scavenger from a desert planet. I am not good at buffets!” She exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

 Poe turned to Ben. “How many did she eat?” he asked, shaking his head.

Ben, who had had a glass of whatever, very drinkable, wine Poe had pulled from the cellar and was now beginning to loosen up a bit, decided to throw himself headlong into being sociable, replied, “Two, I think.”

Poe’s eyes widened.

“Two?!” exclaimed Finn.

“So what happened?” enquired Rose.

“Nothing!” said Rey and Ben at the same time.

Poe was incredulous, “Nothing? I’ve seen what happens when someone has less than a quarter of one of those truffles and you are telling me _nothing at all_ happened.”

“Ben had me unceremoniously dumped in a cold bath by RD”. said Rey, not mincing her words at all.

Ben looked sheepish, “If it’s any consolation I went and had a very cold shower.”

Finn slapped his leg and laughed while Rose sputtered in to her wine.

Poe leaned back in his chair and gave Ben a long hard look. Raising his glass to him he said, “You know Solo, I think that fact, more than anything else, impresses me. You are a far better man than I would have been in that situation. I salute you!” 

Ben bowed his head. Rey could feel, amusement radiating from him. She took his hand again and maybe it was the wine, or recalling that interesting shuttle journey home, she pushed back to him _You can make up for that cold bath later_. 

 

As they got up from the table to retire out on the balcony for khav, Rose moved over towards Rey and Ben; and taking her arm gave Rey an enquiring look. Rey leaned over and whispered something in Rose’s ear. Rose’s eyes went as large as saucers and her hand flew up to her mouth. She looked from Ben to Rey. “He’s a keeper, Rey” she said. Rey smiled. “He certainly is.” “Thank you” added Ben, leaning over to give Rey a kiss on her temple.

Rose giggled, “I’m not so sure it would be safe to send Poe out to Aurelia. Can you imagine Poe after one of those truffles.” 

Rey shot Poe a look, “I don’t think he needs them, he even has chemistry with a table lamp.”

Rose indecorously snorted. Poe and Finn who were walking ahead turned and looked. “Hey now, I'll have you know my light fixtures are very attractive” retorted Poe.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be fair the children were only sneaking food for the Porgs... some of the time.
> 
> No one let Chef know about Porgs, or we may end up with a scene reminiscent of Sebastian in the kitchen from The Little Mermaid


	2. Like Something out of a Dream

It had not been a good day. Then again there had not been many of late. He had argued with his mother again; this time during a dinner which had been late due to her being held up in the Senate, something that was also becoming more frequent. Ben couldn’t even remember what had set things off this time; maybe she’d commented on his taciturn, surly manner, maybe it was something else. It didn’t matter though, the arguments always ended in the same way; a hastily pushed back chair, a tossed napkin, an abandoned meal and a slammed door.

Ben hunched on the side of his bed, his head bent low, hands grasping at his hair, as if to try and pull his head apart. Something was just not right. No matter how often he told himself each morning that today would be better; that he wouldn’t lose his temper, things just seemed to be spiralling away from him. He couldn’t even pinpoint why he’d flown off the handle. His father, when he was around, seemed to be able to calm things. He’d smooth things over with Leia and take Ben out and away for a bit. But lately even that didn’t seem to help. More often than not he and Ben would come to odds over something and they’d both return sullen and withdrawn.

Ben sat up and looked about his room. A calligraphy set sat abandoned on his desk amid a clutter of papers and books. It had been weeks since he’d last used it and ink on it had long dried. He frowned slightly. He couldn’t fathom why he would leave it like that; he had always been so particular about taking care of it. He picked up the brush and as he rolled it between his fingers and thumb felt the cloak of restlessness lift slightly. 

A sense of calm returned to him and he found his mind drifting back…

 

 

He is sitting on his mother’s lap. She’s teaching him how to make the Aurebesh letter forms, her hand guiding his. He should be paying attention to the letters but he’s momentarily transfixed by how different her hands are from his father’s, they are smaller but  seem somehow stronger. 

“My father taught me when I wasn’t much older than you,” she is saying, her voice catching slightly.

She removes her hand and lets Ben carry on unaided. At first he is a little hesitant and the brush slips making a messy stroke on the paper. Rather than be deterred he tries again and, shifting his hold on the brush, starts writing again. He isn’t sure how long he has spent writing but when he finishes his mother seems very pleased.

She picks him up and spins him around, “You are a natural Ben! That’s really beautiful work.” She gets up and sets him down on the chair, “wait here a moment.”

After a short time she returns carrying a simple wooden box. She crouches down beside him. He notices that her eyes look slightly red and puffy.

“I would have loved to have been able to give you your grandfather’s set. But it was… lost. Your father’s friend, Maz, found one very like it for me recently. I had been intending to give it to you on your lifeday but I think you should have it now.”

She opens the box to reveal a slender brush and small metal ink well. Ben’s hand reaches out to touch it…

 

 

 

Ben looked down at the brush in his hand; using it had come to him as naturally as wielding a lightsaber had later on. While he’d never been particularly good at being still and meditating the way Luke had repeatedly tried to teach him, the ritual of preparing to write; pouring out the ink, arranging his brushes and readying the paper, made him feel centred and filled with an inner peace that he presumes is the one Luke was trying to explain. His uncle wasn’t always very good at explaining things; when asked ‘why?’ or told ‘I’ll try’ he would become exasperated and declaim some variation on ‘there is no try, you either do it or you don’t’ which Ben found increasingly infuriating. 

Once he began to write Ben would loose himself to everything but the sensation of the brush gliding over the paper leaving a trail of dark ink and the occasional sound of the nib catching slightly on any imperfections in the paper. Time would pass unnoticed and he when he finally stopped he would be left with a page covered with text. 

It was never anything terribly profound; usually just strings of words that seemed to have no real meaning, nicely present. Sometimes the words would leave him with an uneasy feeling, but more often than not they appeared to be gibberish. 

This evening, however, he felt that as if that sense of serenity would be impossible to reclaim again. The Voice had been encroaching more and more on his waking moments. He associated it with the presence that he had sensed at the periphery of his mind when drifting off to sleep. It taunted and needled him as if to seek to undermine him and it growing more insistent over the last few months.

Resolving to try again; to attempt reclaim even just some small moment of peace, he began pick up items and set them back in their proper place. His eyes then rested what he had been writing when he had last used the set. He picked up the paper and read:

_A sea of sand_

_A fallen behemoth_

_A desert bloom_

_A ray of hope_

It was yet another cryptic message, though in his gut he felt there was something vitally important about it. But unbidden and unwanted The Voice returned with a vengeance, telling him it was just utter drek; sentimental nonsense and nothing more. He crumpled the paper and tossed it towards the corner. Dark, irrational, unfocused anger seemed to descend around him and he threw himself on to his bed and pulled the pillow over his head in a futile attempt to shield himself from emotions he didn't understand nor much less wanted to feel.

 

 

“Come back!”, the voice was calling piteously. It was high and hoarse. Was it his as a child?  He’d often enough called out the same words when he was younger as his mother left to attend a soiree at the Senate, or his father went off who knows where. Ben looked around, was he dreaming? It was certainly the most lucid dream he’d ever had and Luke had warned him that being at one with the Force could sometimes lead to some, seemingly, very real dreams.

It didn’t feel like a dream though; the sand beneath his feet felt real enough and the sun’s glare made his head ache.

He was dimly aware of the plaintive cry again. He wasn’t revisiting a painful memory of his, it was a young girl crying out. She was small and skinny, with tears streaming down her face as a large, blob-like alien, a Crolute by the looks of it, grasped and yanked her painfully thin arm. Overhead he could hear the thrusters of a small ship as it pushed out beyond the atmosphere.

“Come back!” the girl wailed again. 

 

His instinct was to reach out to her, tear her away from the brutish alien and just run away with her. But before he could react Ben felt the cold darkness returning, closing in and enveloping him.

 

 

Ben awoke with a jolt. He was drenched in sweat and his heart was pounding. The girl’s words reeled in his head. He sat up and lent over the end of the bed to reach for the paper laying at the foot of the bed. He then heard the voices coming from living area.

“I just don’t know how to deal with him anymore.”

“Maybe it’s time to tell him.”

“No, this is certainly not the time to tell him. He needs to get away from here, I think he should join Luke. Start training full time. Then, when he’s ready.”

Ben stiffened, his hand hovering over the paper. So that was it then. His parents were washing their hands of him and he was going to be packed off to his uncle. He withdrew his hand, the only writing visible: “ray of hope”, now seemed to be more a taunt than any thing else. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this piece was borne from my intrigue at Ben/Kylo's reaction on hearing that a girl had assisted BB8 and Finn in their escape.
> 
> This is an updated and expanded version of the original.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://alicestill.tumblr.com) feel free to drop by and say hi!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Postcards from the Galactic Edge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706421) by [sunbug1138](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbug1138/pseuds/sunbug1138)




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